Free Get Lucky by Lorie O'Clare

finished high school.”
    “How old are you?” he asked, realizing he didn’t know.
    “Aren’t guys not supposed to ask ladies that?” she asked, grinning broadly.
    “I think that rule doesn’t fall into place until we’re over forty.” He rinsed the plates and stacked them next to her sink. “Let me guess. Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”
    London leaned back in her chair, laughing, and drank more of her wine. If she was getting tipsy, he liked her this way. “I’m mortally offended,” she said, still laughing. “I’m twenty-five. Your turn. Age and job description please, sir.”
    “Twenty-seven and I own part of a family business.” Now it was his turn to change the subject. “Where is the dish soap?”
    “You really don’t need to wash the dishes.” She stood, moving toward him with a lazy stroll.
    “Is there something else you’d rather do?” he asked, reaching for her with wet hands.
    She giggled, making an effort to dodge him. Her dress looked pretty nice, and since it was possibly “dry-clean only” he used that as his excuse to drag his damp fingers through her hair, capturing her face and lowering his mouth to hers.
    London didn’t relax against him as easily as she did the last time he kissed her, but she tasted so good Marc didn’t care. Gripping the side of her head, he tilted her so he could devour her better. She tasted of their dinner and the wine. But it was the heat that greeted him, slowly drifting to his brain, that made him slow the kiss and pull her closer. London groaned and he dragged his fingers through all that thick, tangle-free silk down her back until he clasped her rear end.
    More than anything he wanted to explore every inch of her. He was acutely aware of the zipper down her spine and forced himself to instead caress her smooth, round ass as he continued feasting on her mouth. If he moved too quickly she’d make him stop. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he didn’t doubt it for a moment.
    “You really don’t want your dishes washed,” he murmured into her mouth, knowing he could stop now, but if he held her in his arms much longer he’d be carrying her in search of her bedroom.
    “Huh,” she gasped, letting her head fall back and her eyes remain closed when he raised his head. The slight grin on her face added to the vision of beauty Marc stared down at. “Soap is in the cabinet under the sink,” she said, holding her position.
    “You are wicked,” he accused, letting his gaze drop to the view of her breasts with the material of her dress stretched over them.
    London relaxed even more in his arms. If he let her go, she’d fall backward; not that he would ever let her go. Marc blinked, suddenly realizing this wasn’t casual sex or friends with benefits. They’d known each other a week. He’d booked his room at the lodge for a month. If this was how he felt about her right now, where would they be when it was time for him to leave?
    He was a selfish bastard. Marc would take what London offered and worry later about where it might lead them. He wanted London too much to start analyzing something as serious as a relationship.
    “I tell you what,” he said, squeezing her ass and pulling her dress up until he felt the edge of the material in his hands. That was enough to open her eyes. “I’m going to wash your dishes and then I want more of this,” he said, lowering his head and nibbling at her lower lip.
    “You drive a hard bargain,” she informed him. When she straightened, London appeared a lot more sober than she had a moment before. “And we’ll see. No promises.”
    London couldn’t remember when she last had more fun washing and drying dishes. Marc jumped into the task, making her feel obligated to get out a hand towel and dry.
    “You see,” he told her. “I learned at a young age washing the dishes was the much better task than drying them. My brother and I had to do this every night. It was our chore; that was before we got a